Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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listen to a damn thing I told you earlier? I don’t know how to have a home, a family. I don’t want those things. You do, and I won’t give you false hope just because I’m addicted to you.”
A part of her—a tiny part—soared when he said he was addicted to her. But it wasn’t enough, she knew that. Wasn’t enough for him or for her. It hurt to think that it was only sex between them. But for him, it was.
“You won’t even try,” she said.
“No,” he replied, letting her go again. “I won’t. Because I know who I am, Veronica. I’ve had a lot of years to learn. And I won’t hurt you by trying to be something I’m not.”
She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to stave off the sudden chill that threatened to make her teeth chatter. It wasn’t cold in the least, but she felt as if he’d turned into a block of ice—and she was freezing simply from being too close. “God forbid you challenge your own assumptions.”
“Veronica—”
“No,” she snapped, taking a step closer to him again, jabbing her finger into his chest. “If you’re so damn smart, and know so much, then why didn’t you just tell me no in the first place? No matter how much I wanted you, you could have said no. You could have spared us both.”
He raised his hands as if to surrender. “You’re right. I could have. I didn’t because I’m human. Because I can be a selfish bastard. Because I still want the things I know I can’t have.”
“After everything I told you,” she said, sucking in a harsh breath. She couldn’t complete the sentence without screaming.
“Yes, after everything. Because I’m a man, and you’re a damn sexy woman who was hot for me. It’d take a saint to say no to you.”
Fury swelled inside her until she thought she would burst if she didn’t act. She wanted to slap him, wanted to smack the arrogance right off his face. But she couldn’t hit him, couldn’t hit anyone.
It was so, so wrong.
And it was her fault, too. She wasn’t blameless in this. It was her fault that she’d told herself whatever he could give her was enough.
It wasn’t.
“I trusted you, Raj. Losing my baby was the most devastating thing that ever happened to me. I didn’t think I could feel again, didn’t think I—”
She pressed a fist to her chest, throat aching. She couldn’t say another word. If she did, she would scream. He was looking at her, his expression stark.
Well, that’s how she felt, too. Stark. Empty.
“You don’t need me, Veronica,” he said. “You’re strong enough and brave enough on your own. And you’ll find what you’re looking for. Someday.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said, half to herself. “I knew this was inevitable.” She tossed her hair defiantly. “Hell, maybe you are right. Maybe it’s better this way. Because you wouldn’t have wanted me once you knew the truth.”
His gaze sharpened, his body stilling. As if he were a hunter scenting prey.
“The truth?” He sounded so dangerous.
She didn’t care. What did it matter? She looked him in the eye. “It’s my fault my baby died. So you see, even if you wanted a family, I’m not the sort of woman you’d want to take that chance with.”
He swore, a rude word she’d never heard him use before. “I’ve spent enough time with you to know that’s not true. You aren’t responsible for your miscarriage, no matter what kind of crazy idea you’ve got into your head about it.”
Anguish ate her from the inside out. “Don’t tell me I’m not responsible! You weren’t there. I didn’t know I was pregnant, Raj. I kept drinking, kept staying out late and having a good time—by the time I knew I was pregnant, the damage had been done.”
He put his hands on her shoulders—firmly—and forced her to look at him. “Women don’t lose babies because they drink alcohol, Veronica. Haven’t you ever seen a drug addict have a child? The baby is usually born with devastating health problems, but the baby is born. A few drinks didn’t kill your child.”
Her stomach was a solid ball of pain. “You don’t know that.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes glittering with some emotion she couldn’t identify. “I do know. I’ve seen it. My mother was a drug addict. Not when I was young, but as I grew older. And I saw the kind of people she did drugs with. Believe me, if they didn’t lose the children they were carrying because of what they did, you definitely didn’t.”
She sucked in a breath, refused to let it become a sob. She wanted to believe him. She’d always wanted to believe, but she’d never been able to. The doctors had told her it wasn’t her fault, that the miscarriage would have happened regardless. She’d just never believed them.
Raj pulled her into his embrace, held her tight for a long time. She closed her eyes, breathed in his scent, her heart hurting so much she wanted to fall asleep and not wake up for a hundred years.
Because she knew, before he said it, that he was still saying goodbye.
“You deserve happiness, Veronica. That’s why I’m letting you go.”
Early the next morning, they left for the ten-hour flight to Aliz. Raj purposely kept himself away from Veronica for the duration. She never once looked at him, so he had plenty of opportunity to watch her. She was pale. Her hair was pulled back into a loose knot on her head, and she wore a black dress with a jacket and heels. There were circles under her eyes, and the tip of her nose was red, as if she’d been crying recently.
It gutted him to think she had.
Still, she was beautiful. Remote and regal, more like the Veronica he’d met the first night in London. The one who would never deign to lower herself to sleep with a bastard like him. Better for them both if she hadn’t.
He’d lain awake last night, his body aching for her. His heart aching for her. That was a new sensation, but he’d shoved it down deep and slapped a lid on it. He had no room for sentimentality, not with her, not with anyone. If he let himself care, even the tiniest bit, tomorrow something would happen and it’d be time to move on again. He couldn’t unpack the suitcase, no matter how much he wanted to do so.
Except that he did care, damn it. When she’d stood there, her eyes shining with pain, and told him she was to blame for what had happened to her, he’d thought he would have to punch something. Preferably Andre Girard.
She’d been living with so much pain and guilt. She’d needed someone to stand beside her during that time, and there’d been no one.
A little voice told him he could stand with her now, but he shoved it away. He’d made the decision that was best for them both, and he couldn’t go back on it simply because his heart felt as if it were being ground to powder.
Now, he was taking her back to Aliz and leaving one of his best teams there to protect her. They would also train the presidential guard on proper procedures before they left Aliz permanently.
He never wanted to worry about her safety again. He’d gotten the reports on the people she’d had with her in London; nothing stood out. No one had any reason to want to harm her, which brought him back to square one. The security guard who’d been dismissed had to have been in the employ of someone in Aliz.
It wasn’t the former president, but it could have certainly been the police chief. He could have found out about the baby and decided to use that to frighten her. Perhaps he’d reasoned that if Veronica didn’t want to return to Aliz, his power grab stood a better chance of being successful.
When they landed in Aliz, the television cameras were waiting. The tarmac was packed with supporters bearing signs with Veronica’s name, with slogans, with the name of